The Remora
by The Ex-parrot
Summary: Hermione continuously gets beaten up by the bratty Draco day after day. A friend reveals to her that someone she cares for is in danger. What kind of risk will she face if she even decides to follow through to save this person? First time, please r&r.
1. Beat Around the Bush

Disclaimer: I do _not_ own Harry Potter. That is totally JK Rowling's idea and we all know it.

Pain. Excruciating pain; Hermione's whole body was leaden and sent waves of a familiar searing, burning sensation. With the little energy she had left, she attempted to sit up, only to find that someone was one step ahead of her and knocked her out just after delivering her a full dose of the Petrificus Totalus spell. "Fifth time this week- where's a mad three-headed dog when you need it most," she asked herself in a hoarse mumble. "Bloody spells."

Finally, the spell slowly began to wear off. In the distance, three mellow, almost meloncholy chimes from the old bell in the Great Hall's tower sounded out while Hermione furiously tried to take the effect of the Totalus spell off faster. As the immobility began to fade from her toes and eventually to the top of her head, the white-hot only seemed to increase. Silently cursing, she lifted herself carefully from the ground, brushed her robes from loose, autumn grass, then sped off to Herbology, realizing she was already thirty minutes late to class.

"Geez, where _were _you, Hermione?" asked Ron. There was definitely a dark, worried look cast over him. Hermione realized she must have looked dreadful; after all, getting beaten with a dozen broomsticks then frozen with a Petrificus Totalus spell and made all the more unconscious with a blow to the head with a rock, nobody can actually expect to look undisturbed. Juggling a stack of weighty books and a sliver of an orange for breakfast, she dragged herself towards the nearest barrel of water kept for watering the plants and looked down. Purplish black bruises work perfectly well alongside mud smears and oozing scratches, Hermione thought to herself. Meanwhile, Ron was still in panic. "That evil Professor Sprout. She's gone and assigned each of us those muggle plants that eats other live things- Venus trappy somethings- so we could get a taste of what kinds of plants they have. She's mad. Honestly, _who _would ever want to know about a carniverous plant? Besides, if I get bitten by that thing..."

Hermione sighed and shook her once clean, grime-free hair in exhaustion and a bit of reassurance. "Relax, Ronald. I, for one, _am _a muggle-born witch. Number two, I really doubt that it'll lure you to it with sweet smelling nectars, bite off your finger, then secrete enzymes to dissolve it. They can't possibly be any worse than the Devil's Snare six years ago anyway."

"Yeah, but no bloody way-"

"It's not that bad."

"It is!"

"No it's not. Look, I'm touching it."

"Fine, touch it all you want, but don't whine about your poisonous infection later."

Hermione sighed and gazed at the tall figure. Ron had grown surprisingly over the summer. Just in the last few months, he exceeded both Charlie and Bill's height, both of which had all the Weasley features. Physically he seemed as though he was either brother's clone from a distance, but mentally, he still was very Fred-and-George influenced. Harry waltzed over just then, carrying his Venus fly trap plant with his Hufflepuff partner, Ernie Macmillian. "Hey Hermione.. I heard that this was part of our O.W.Ls, but they just haven't told us formerly yet. What do you reckon?"

"Look, I don't know, okay? I've gotten ambushed by the infamous Malfoy crew once again."

Harry, Ernie, and Ron huddled closer, looking startled and concerned. "What, again?" Harry asked in hushed tones. Hermione numbly shook her head, yes. "Can't you tell?" she added, pointing to the painful gash on her filthy, grass stained arm.


	2. Face in the Fireplace

Things only became worse for Hermione after that. Pansy Parkinson decided it'd be great fun to trip and lock her dear little friend in the broom closet where Filch found her tangled up in the greasy mops nobody used for years. She discovered that he only opened the closet because he'd been tipped off by Peeves that some kid stashed his weekly supply of cauldron cakes there. That evening, Draco insisted that she must have the best truffle pudding, then forced a spoonful- along with a squeamish, grey, depressed looking glumbumble down her throat. When she went to the library to study, she also stumbled upon the fact that glumbumbles produced a treacle that causes the consumer to feel a bit depressed afterwards. It was late into the night by then, and she wearily (and glumly) glanced up at the huge mantlepiece clock sitting just above the commonplace fireplace. Her eyes silently drooped and abandoned the usual workload Hermione always had in store for them. She began to stare at the fireplace to try and stay awake, her perfect posture beginning to give in to lack of sleep from the past few days. The soot collected began to grow lighter in color all of a sudden for some reason, and opaque, flesh colored shapes began to form and hover above the soot. Hermione shook herself awake and focused intently on the continuously sharpening image; the shape started to look amazingly like a person!

With each progressing minute, she was sure it was a face. As the face grew clearer and facial features defined themselves, Hermione was also sure that she'd seen that person before. Dark, shadowing eyebrows framed a pair of matching cold eyes. In the middle of the face stood a long, bony nose. Every feature was part of a head with a sharp jaw and cheekbones with skin tightly stretched across, all topped with a mass of dark brown, matted hair. The head seemed as if its owner was wearing a sort of collar or jacket, mud caking the snowy white fur trim of it. Hermione gasped into the ill lit room hours after midnight. It was Alexei Ivanov! Hermione met him in their fourth year when the Triwizard Tournament took place at Hogwarts. She went out with Viktor Krum and was introduced to Alexei by Viktor. The two looked somewhat alike with their dark eyes and hair and pale complexion. At the Yule Ball, she and Alexei talked for a bit while Viktor went to get some refreshments and Alexei's date took a few minutes to visit the loo. Alexei, it turned out, was orphaned at 8 when he came to Durmstrang and had lived there since then. Before both his parents died, he'd lived in Britain and still maintained the British accent, but came to Durmstrang since his grandfather lived up north. But now, the face in the fireplace began to move his lips as his voice increased in volume. "Hermione... they've taken Viktor, taken him..."

Immediately, Hermione sat up, alert and anxiously asked Alexei, "What are you talking about? I... I saw Viktor not even more than two weeks ago, he was perfectly okay."

Alexei quickly responded with a shake of his shaggy head. "Hermione, did he seem a bit paranoid, maybe? A little jumpy at every squeak of a door, every flick of a wand?"

She thought for a moment. Viktor changed slightly, but she had come to believe from his excuses that he was emotionally scarred by some of the bizarre events during the Triwizard Tournament. If it was that, then she understood completely. But now, she wasn't so sure. He acted every time as if he was expecting some kind of stranger to just.. appear. He had stayed over at the Granger's house for a week, and every time Hermione's mother called them to dinner or her father walk into the house after walking the dogs, Viktor instantly whitened and restored color once he was sure he was safe. What could possibly have happened to him, she wondered. Alexei gave an exhausted, restless sigh. "Look, there was a break-in at Durmstrang not more than a few hours ago. Whoever the intruder was, they came into Viktor's dormitory. I suppose they didn't know exactly where he was and prowled around looking for him. The guy poisoned most of the boys in the dorm that the intruder discovered wasn't Viktor, but took him once he was found."

Hermione felt the color from her face leave and chills tickled her spine. Alexei continued. "They didn't just stop at the poisoning and kidnapping though. Now Igor Karkaroff, the headmaster, is near dead. Somebody tried to kill him, but slashed through his arm and part of his chest. It doesn't sound all that bad, but the cut is deep. The professors here have come to the conclusion that the intruder that tried to kill Karkaroff must be a muggle. A regular wizard would just use the Avada Kedavra curse, wouldn't he? It just doesn't make any sense, Hermione..."

The sky outside slowly churned pink and orange, indicating the first signs of dawn. Heavy footsteps descended in a dragging, sleepy manner as someone came downstairs from the dormitory. Hurrying to finish the meeting, Hermione whispered to Alexei, "Tell me more. Tomorrow, same time."

Alexei nodded quickly as his image vanished. Ron stood in the doorway next to the stairwell. "Hermione, who was that?"


	3. Onward

Ron eyed Hermione suspiciously every minute and everywhere she went since the morning. Apparently, Ron had remembered about Fred and George's hushed remarks about "snippets of hair" earlier at dinner in the Great Hall, and woke up early from a nightmare involving garden scissors, a fistful of red hair, and mischevious twin laughter. When he came down to the common room, he caught a glimpse of a ghostly pale head in the fireplace. He felt awkward standing in the stairwell in his lovely striped pajama pants and staring into a strange, translucent head. The magical world did, however, continuously play tricks on poor Ron anyway.

During the whole day, Hermione always tried to steal away from the crowds and masses of students and teachers in the hallways and classes to try and slowly gather up a small carpetbag full of her stuff. Ron kept sneaking about and asking questions about what she was doing, where she was going, and why she'd lie to him. Harry seemed unaware and immune to everything going on until about lunchtime when he suddenly asked, "Who're you going after, Hermione?" She felt drained and grumpy from the lack of sleep last night and sleepily tried to avoid him. At nightfall, all her things were neatly packed into a compact plaid carpetbag, and she had been able to persuade Hagrid to take care of Crookshanks. She didn't have much of a good excuse to explain why, so she simply told him that the mass of fur was sick. Hagrid had looked confused and stared questionably at her and assured her Crookshanks was quite alright, but took him in anyway.

Now the plan was set; the entire dormitory would fall asleep (she was sure of that- Hermione visited the house elves and easily convinced them she needed to add something to everyone in Gryffindor's drinks. She then quickly prepared some Draught of Living Death and slipped a drop into everyone's pumpkin juice.), leaving her to sneak out of the house. She stole away Harry's Marauder's Map when he wasn't looking just before she decided to sneak out. If she encountered a teacher on his or her nightly patrol, it wasn't a problem. She carried a spray-bottle filled with a strong dose of Forgetfulness Potion securely under her cloak. Once the coast was clear, she'd creep and take a broom to use once she was outside. Everything was in place.

Tying a black cloak around her and slinging her carpetbag over one shoulder, she clipped on the bottle of Forgetfulness Potion and opened up the Marauder's Map. She slid the Fat Lady's portrait to the side. Looking back one last time, maybe in a long while, she turned and took a deep breath-

"Hermione."

Harry and Ron pivoted in their chairs- they must have hid there the entire time!

"Whatever it is you're doing, you're not going alone," Ron said loudly, completely aware that everyone else had a dose of Draught of Living Death. Hermione let her carpetbag slump to the floor. They were definitely coming, and she couldn't do anything about it.


	4. Feathery Dragon

Since the moment the trio left the common room ("Who's there?" squawked the Fat Lady wildly.), They learned Hermione had planned everything from making sure Peeves stayed away to the last giggling step on the foolish trick staircase. Nobody would ever find out what happened to the three until Parvati Patil from the girl's dormitory and Seamus Finnigan from the boys' came rushing into the Gryffindor common room searching frantically for them all (Parvati had fallen asleep while finishing up Professor Flitwick's essay on The Importance of Simple Household Charms, and Seamus needed tips on flying; a Cleansweep Seven was delivered as an early birthday present the day before). Far-fetched ideas brewed inside the young Gryffindors' heads, but the most absurd one was the accusation of Neville Longbottom that he had left a piece of paper with the week's new password and dropped it again (like in the third year), and that Harry, Hermione, and Ron had all been kidnapped by the still-at-large Black.

Of course, nobody had been kidnapped at all. In fact, three cloaked figures sprinted across the Hogwarts grounds during the night in their own free will. The moment Hermione stepped hurridly on to the soft moss path roughly hewn in the Forbidden Forest, a rather large hawk owl came swooping down on them, dropping a parcel. Ron caught it in mid-air and hastily untied the twine around the message. Revealed on the paper in rushed, scribbled handwriting was written, "_Sofia, Bulgaria._"

Ron looked shocked. "Bulgaria? Hermione, _how _do you expect us to get there in time to save someone from uncertain death? If you haven't noticed, we're in _England_, which means Bulgaria is a fair few countries away..."

Harry gave Hermione a reassuring look and a smile. "Don't worry, Hermione," he whispered, casting a glance at the flaming hair and freckles. "I've got contacts."

Hermione and Ron had been forced by Harry to sleep instead of worrying about getting there. Hermione was in a nervous wreck; she didn't see the point of having a lie-down while Viktor could be in mortal danger. Ron was fidgety too. It wasn't all that long ago that gargantuan spiders had once tried to eat Harry and himself. Finally, after much arguing, all three spread out their cloaks (Hermione quickly conjured up that bluebell flame of hers) and closed their eyes.

Deep within the confinements of her head, Hermione dreamt the most absurd dream. Krum, flying on his Firebolt, whizzed by, grabbed her hand and landed them both smoothly near a cave. Inside the cave, she heard a thunderous booming sound echoing over and over. Suddenly, green scales flashed in the sunlight as a dragon leapt forward and snorted bright orange smoke in her face.

Startled and shaking, she woke herself up. However, instead of staring at the tall, monstrous pine trees, she found herself staring directly into the glassy, amber eyes of a hippogriff. "Sirius!" Harry jovially called out.


End file.
